


That VooDoo That You Do

by xenascully



Category: NCIS
Genre: Crescent City Part 2, Gen, Supernatural Elements, Voodoo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-18
Updated: 2014-04-18
Packaged: 2018-01-19 21:48:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1485262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xenascully/pseuds/xenascully
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>TAG to Crescent City Part 2 because HELLO the voodoo doll thing went nowhere and it so needs some immediate use.<br/>Started out a one shot, but then someone gave me a prompt I couldn't refuse. So chapter 1 and 2 were stand-alone. Chapter 3-8: Twelve years ago, Gibbs and Tony end a case on a sad note. Tony has to shoot a man before he kills an innocent woman. Now, his brother finds out where Tony is and uses the opportunity for revenge. Steals the doll and forces Gibbs and Tony not to leave the house, and will only allow the remaining team to try and find him. Every 8 hours they aren't successful, he'll do something to Tony...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

A week after the New Orleans case was wrapped up, strange things started to happen. Well, stranger things, anyway. And specifically these strange things were happening to Tony.

At first they were little things, barely noticeable. But today they'd been out in the field documenting a crime scene, and one of those really weird things happened...

Tony had been rambling on and on about some movie the crime scene had reminded him of, doing an impression of one of the characters as he snapped photos. Bishop seemed to alternate between bagging evidence and looking at Tony in contemplation. McGee alternated between being amused and annoyed, an occasional laugh sprinkled with a rolling of his eyes.

But then Tony fell. Just...crumbled to the ground, a baffled look on his face as though he had just as little idea what happened as they rest of them.

"Are you okay?" Bishop asked worriedly.

"Uh," Tony replied as he pushed himself up to sit. "I have no idea why that happened," he told her. Then he tried to get up. He yelped when he tried to use his right leg.

"What's wrong with you?" McGee asked as he approached, ready to assist him if necessary.

"What don't you get about I don't know?" Tony replied. "My leg is...numb."

"Numb?" Tim questioned.

"Like it's asleep or something. Like really really asleep. Pins and needles. I can't stand up on it. That's weird, right?" he asked, clearly disturbed by this.

"Are your pants really tight?" Tim asked.

"What kind of question is that?" Tony scoffed.

"A legitimate one," Tim defended. "You might be cutting off the circulation."

"My pants are fine. I just...need to rub my leg or something. Here, take my camera," he handed it over to his partner.

"What's going on?" Gibbs asked as he walked over to them, having finished interviewing the witness.

"Tony's leg is asleep," Bishop replied for them.

"Well wake it up," Gibbs said. "We've got work to do."

"On it, boss," Tony said as Gibbs walked to meet Ducky where he was coming to look at the body. "Geez...this isn't letting up. I'm starting to get worried."

"Maybe you should loosen your pants," Tim said with a smirk.

"Maybe you can ask Ducky what he thinks," Bishop suggested.

"I'm sure it's fine," Tony said. "I'll just...keep rubbing. Maybe if I smack it a bit..." he began hitting his leg repeatedly.

"You look ridiculous," McGee said, shaking his head.

Twenty minutes later, they were finished with the scene and Tony was still trying to wake up his leg.

"Ducky," Tim approached the ME as he loaded the gurney into the van. "I think you should take a look at Tony."

"Whatever for, Timothy?" he asked.

"His leg fell asleep," he replied.

"Well," Ducky let out a small laugh, "I would hardly call that a medical emergency."

"It's going on half an hour now, and he can't get it to wake up."

Ducky turned to him, looking more serious now. "Can he walk?"

"I don't think so," Tim said. "He fell earlier. Ducky, what do you think it is?"

"I can't be certain, but I believe we should get him to a hospital straight away. He could have a clot..."

*~.~*

The ultrasounds done on Tony's leg showed nothing wrong. In fact, after several hours of tests, they could find nothing wrong with it; no reason for the strange numbness.

Feeling exhausted and stupid, Tony limped into the bullpen after Tim drove him to the office from the hospital. Tim helped him, even though he questioned why he needed to come in in the first place.

"Just need to grab some stuff, McGoo. And what difference does it make if I'm here or home?"

"I have no idea, but you should probably be resting or something," Tim replied.

"Don't be a mother hen. The hospital said I was fine."

"They said they didn't know what was wrong with you. That doesn't mean you're fine."

"Just bring me to my chair, would ya? I'll be ready in ten and you can be rid of me once you drop me at home."

Tim helped him to his chair, then went to his own desk. There was still a couple of hours left in the work day, and he had paperwork to finish.

"Tim!" Tony yelped from his desk, and McGee turned to look at him.

"What? What is it?" he asked as he stood again.

"Look...look at this..." Tony said without looking away from his desktop. Tim walked back over to the desk.

There laid the voodoo doll...Tony's Might Mouse Stapler laying across its right leg, crushing it...

"Uhh..." Tim looked back and forth between Tony and the doll, and then reached out to pick up the stapler. He watched a shudder run through Tony.

"You have...got to be kidding me," he said breathlessly.

"What? What?!" Tim asked anxiously.

Tony stood out of his chair. "My leg...is better..."

~End.


	2. Chapter 2

"What am I supposed to do with it?" Tony panicked, looking at the doll where it lay on his desk now. "I need to get rid of it. Burn it or something..."

"Wouldn't that just burn you, too?" McGee said, mostly as a joke.

"Oh god..."

"What's going on?" Bishop asked as she entered the bullpen. "I thought you were supposed to be home? What happened with your leg?"

"This doll is what happened," Tony looked at her accusingly.

"What?" she replied with a disbelieving smile.

"My leg is fine now that I took the stapler off of his leg," he told her, gesturing to the object.

"You think your leg fell asleep because...of the voodoo doll?" she asked with a raised brow. "That's just a novelty item, Tony. It's not real."

"Then explain the unexplained medical condition that the hospital couldn't find a cause for, that magically went away once I found the doll again," Tony said.

"A coincidence," she replied.

"I don't believe in coincidences," he said.

"I thought that was Gibbs."

"It's me too. Can't we just...send this back or something?" he asked her.

"It was made specifically for you," Ellie said as she went to her desk.

"Why would you even do that? Why didn't you just send me a tee shirt like you did McGee?"

"I thought you'd like it," Bishop narrowed her eyes. "Trilogy of Terror," she tilted her head. "You were making references a couple weeks ago for like four days straight."

"Yeah, it's all fun and games til you're the star of the movie," Tony groaned.

"It's not real, Tony," she repeated. "As far as voodoo is concerned, in order for the doll to work it needs something of yours, like your hair or something. That's just a doll. Just a toy. It can't hurt you. Voodoo isn't even a real thing, ya know."

"Don't let Abby hear you say that," Tim stated.

"How do I get rid of it?" Tony asked.

"Well," Tim replied, "I've been looking online. Seems like you've gotta wrap it in a white cloth and throw it into running water, like a river or something. And it has to be on a Saturday."

"But it's Wednesday," Tony said, a look of panic on his face.

"Just put it someplace safe until then," Tim shrugged.

So that's what he did. Only it was hard to find a safe place. The office was obviously not a safe place. Someone had been messing with it when he wasn't around. So he brought it home. Or rather, he stuck it in his backpack, in the side pocket with the mesh where he could keep an eye on it...

*~.~*

The team was called to the scene of a murder before they could even get to the office. Tony was the last to pull up. He glanced over into the passenger seat where his backpack sat, and opted to leave the doll in the car. No sense in getting any comments on the field for carrying a toy around with him.

As he approached his teammates, he felt the heat of the day smack him right in the face. It was the first warm day of the season. Warm was an understatement, really. Once he was at the scene, he set his backpack down and shrugged out of his light jacket, rolling it up before stuffing it into his bag.

"Morning, boss," he greeted when Gibbs looked over at him. "What's left for me?"

"You can help McGee interview the witnesses," he said, nodding his head toward the couple standing over in the distance, Tim already making his way toward them.

"On it," Tony replied, then jogged to catch up to his teammate. "Hey, McGoo."

"Late start this morning?" Tim asked, glancing over at him as he continued to walk.

"No. Just happened to be almost at the office by the time I got the call. Took a while to double back in traffic."

"How's your leg?"

"It's fine. Been fine," he replied. Tim nodded, and they reached the witnesses. Tony started with the questioning, jotting things down now and then.

Tim watched him mostly from the corner of his eye, now and then adding in his own questions, then allowing the witnesses to tell them everything from the beginning; everything they saw happen. In total, it had taken maybe twenty minutes. When Tim handed them a card and told them to call if they remembered anything else, that's when he noticed that Tony was acting funny, tugging at the collar of his shirt and breathing a little heavier than normal.

"It's hot out today," he said as the witnesses walked away. "Aren't you hot?" he questioned, not seeing the same amount of discomfort in his friend.

"It's warm, yeah," Tim nodded, furrowing his brows at the sheen of sweat now forming on Tony's face. It's when he noticed there was a flush to his friend's skin, that he began to worry. "Are you feeling okay, Tony?" he asked, turning bodily toward him.

"You got any water?" he asked, either ignoring or not having heard the question. "I'm really thirsty." Tim dug a bottle from his backpack and handed it over to Tony. "Thanks," he said before unscrewing the cap and chugging three quarters of the contents.

Tim looked above them, then back to Tony. "Maybe you should get outta the sun," he suggested.

"Yeah," Tony said a bit breathlessly. "Yeah, that sounds like a plan."

Tim began to lead him toward a giant tree off to their right, and looked back toward where the rest of the team was gathered. Ducky and Jimmy were loading the body onto a gurney, readying to transport him. Bishop was removing her gloves, and Gibbs was looking in Tim's direction with narrowed eyes. It was when Tony stumbled in his steps for a moment, that Tim's attention was drawn back to the man at his side, catching him by the biceps.

"Hey," Tim said. "Sit down, okay?" he told him, leading the man to the ground under the tree. Tony didn't argue or fight him on it. He didn't even really reply, and that just worried the younger agent even more. He knelt down beside him, noting how out of breath Tony seemed, and took hold of Tony's wrist to check his pulse. He spotted Gibbs coming toward them from the corner of his eye.

"What's going on?" Gibbs asked as he approached.

"Not sure, boss," Tim replied. "Tony's overheated somehow. We haven't been out here that long, but to look at him, you'd think he'd been out here for hours just baking."

"Are you guys...really not as hot as I am?" Tony asked through labored breaths.

"His heart beat is a little fast," Tim told Gibbs. Tony tore his hand away from him and started unbuttoning his shirt.

"How're you feeling, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked as he squatted down in front of him.

"Head is throbbing," he replied, meeting his boss's eyes for a moment. "Man, I feel like I'm drowning. Why is it so humid out? I can hardly breathe..."

"What's wrong with Tony?" Bishop asked as she approached.

"Get Ducky," Gibbs told her. "Hurry and catch him before they leave." She nodded and headed off toward the ME van. "You think this is related to what happened with your leg yesterday?" Gibbs asked him.

Tony didn't seem to hear the question, but his face had suddenly paled, and he turned to the side away from his teammates and vomited the water he'd drank just a bit earlier.

McGee, however, heard what Gibbs had asked, and bells went off in his head. His eyes widened. "Tony, where's the doll?" he asked.

"What?" he questioned, fighting to get air.

"The doll," he repeated. "Where did you put it?"

"My bag," Tony replied. "No...wait. It's...it's in the car," he told him, seeming to zone out.

"What's that got to do with anything, McGee?" Gibbs asked.

"I know it sounds crazy, but... I'll be right back," he told him, then pushed up off the ground and took off running toward Tony's car. He passed Ducky on the way, who was almost to the ailing agent now.

"What's happened to Tony?" the doctor asked.

"Not sure," Gibbs replied. "Got symptoms of heat stroke, but he hasn't been out here long enough for that."

"If this is true, we need to get him into an air conditioned space immediately," Ducky replied. "I've kept the van running, so that should be sufficient for now. Give him some water while I get Jimmy to back up over here."

"He just threw up, Duck. Sure that'll help?" he asked as the older man felt Tony's forehead.

"Good god, we need to get him to a hospital, Jethro!" the doctor exclaimed before standing again. "We've got to get him to the van, now!"

"I can't...breathe...boss," Tony said, panicking now, listing to the side before Gibbs caught him.

"C'mon, Tony. We gotta get you outta here," he said, moving to help him up...

*~.~*

McGee pulled open the driver's door of Tony's car, immediately spotting the doll in the passenger seat. The heat from the car smacked him like a wave once it was open. It had to have been 120 degrees in there...

He grabbed the doll and left the car, heading back over toward the team. He saw Ellie and Gibbs hoisting Tony up under his arms, preparing to help him walk. Ducky was hurrying back to his van. Tim grabbed a second bottle of water from his pack as he headed toward them.

"Boss!" he yelled. "Boss, I think I know what happened," he said, feeling slightly insane for the notion.

"Don't tell me it's that damn doll again, McGee. That thing isn't real," he scolded.

"But boss..."

"We're talking him to the hospital." They continued toward the van. But McGee opened the bottle of water anyway and began pouring it on the doll. When he looked back up toward the group, he saw Tony violently shiver, then abruptly lose consciousness...

*~.~*

McGee sat at his desk, the doll sitting safe beside his keyboard as he typed up his report. He kept glancing over at it intermittently, just making sure it was okay, which was crazy. He realized it. But he couldn't dismiss the past two days and the connections it had with this object.

Ellie was seated on the floor, cross-legged with papers and crime scene photos splayed out in front of her. She had headphones in. Tim wondered how she could be so focused on work while Tony was in the hospital. They were waiting for Gibbs to call and give them news. He wished he could zone out like Ellie did.

"Hey, McGee," Abby said as she entered from the back end of the bullpen suddenly. "Any word yet?"

"Nothing," Tim replied. "It's been over an hour. You'd think they'd know something by now."

"It's just...so weird, him having a heat stroke like that," she said. "You're all out in the field pretty much every day. This has never been a problem before. I mean...it wasn't even that hot out when you guys were on the scene. Not even ninety degrees yet..."

"It was a lot hotter in the car," Tim said quietly, not really meaning to say it out loud.

"So what?" Abby asked. "Was he in his car when it happened?"

"No," Tim shook his head, meeting her eyes again. "No he wasn't. But this was," he pointed to the doll. Abby reached for it, but Tim grabbed her wrist to stop her. "Don't touch it!" he tried not to shout.

"What is it?" she asked. "Is that a... That's a voodoo doll, isn't it! Where did you get that?"

"Ellie sent it to Tony from New Orleans," Tim told her. "She swears it's not real, and none of us thought it was. But too much has happened and now I don't know what to think..."

"We need to get rid of it-"

"Yeah I know," he interrupted. "We've gotta wait till Saturday."

"How do you know that?" she asked, curious.

"Google," he shrugged. Then his phone rang.

Tony was going to be okay.

For now...


	3. Chapter 3

Gibbs sat beside Tony's hospital bed, deep in thought. It had been somewhere around an hour since they'd gotten the agent there. He had had moments of consciousness, but they'd been fleeting, and only when he'd been back with the doctors.

His temperature was back to normal, and he was hooked up to an IV giving him fluids. The heart monitor beeped softly beside the bed. Gibbs wondered if his agent had truly been ill before he showed up at the scene. The leg thing the previous day had seemed odd, but the hospital had found nothing wrong with him. But doctors were sometimes wrong, and Gibbs couldn't accept that the two incidents weren't connected somehow.

When Gibbs had approached Tony at the scene, he'd felt a pang of fear over the symptoms. He'd lost a friend years ago from a heat stroke. It was surprising how serious it could be. The moment that the thought had come to him –that he could lose Tony that way- was undeniable terrifying. Gibbs wasn't sure why it would be any more unacceptable than him dying in any other fashion, but he was certain that the younger man wouldn't have wanted to go out that way. Sickness...that was the one thing Tony did not want to go out on. Blown up, shot in the line of duty, something he would consider heroic—that's the way Tony had always pictured going out; the way he'd be okay with if it came down to that. Not that he wanted to die or anything, but if he had to go, it better be with glory.

A groan pulled Gibbs from his thoughts, and his eyes moved to the agent lying in the bed. Tony's head lolled a bit, his eyes starting to move heavily under the lids, trying to pull out of sleep. Gibbs stood.

"You wakin' up finally, DiNozzo?" he asked softly.

Another groan, and Tony's head turned toward the voice. His eyes cracked open. "Gibbs?"

"Good. Memory's still intact," he said with a slight smile.

"Wh...what happened?" he asked, looking around the room for a moment before he began to push himself up. "'m I in the hospital?" His brows furrowed.

"Yep," Gibbs replied, gently pressing a hand on Tony's shoulder to make him lie back down. "You don't remember?"

"Uh..." Tony let himself relax back onto the bed as his eyes searched the air in front of him. "We were interviewing the witnesses," Tony said. "McGee and me." He looked over at his boss to confirm. Gibbs nodded. "I remember it was really hot out. Like...unnaturally hot for that time of day. Remember everything started...feeling like it was under water... But I don't remember anything after that."

"Doctors say you had a heat stroke," Gibbs told him.

"What?" Tony's eyes widened in fear.

"You're gonna be okay," he assured him. "There was no permanent damage. But you're on desk duty for at least a few days."

"Perfect," Tony sighed. "My favorite part of the job. Now when can I get outta here?" he asked as he moved to sit up again. And again, Gibbs put a hand on Tony's shoulder to stop him.

"Let's see what the doctor has to say," he told him.

"Thought you said I was fine," Tony said.

"I'm not a doctor," Gibbs replied with raised brows and evidence of a smirk on his face.

"Agent DiNozzo, you're awake," an actual doctor said as he came into the room.

"Oh good! A doctor," Tony stated. "Can you tell me if I'm gonna die if I sit up?" Gibbs shot Tony a glare. "Sorry, boss. Didn't mean anything by that."

"You should be fine to sit up," the doctor said with a small laugh. "In fact," he continued with a look of almost disbelief, "I think you'd be fine to go home in a few hours."

"Yeah?" Tony smiled.

"Though all of your initial symptoms were textbook heat stroke, your body temperature was back to normal not long after you got here, and without any need for us to much assist in getting it down. And we've seen no complications that would normally follow such an event. Your respiration is as well as expected. Heart rate is perfect. Normally I'd keep a heat stroke patient for at least 48 hours for observation, but I really do believe you're an extraordinarily special case."

"He certainly is that," Gibbs said with a bigger smirk.

"I knew you cared," Tony grinned at him.

The doctor let out another small laugh, amused by both men. "I would, however, feel a lot better if you have someone that'll at least be able to keep an eye on you for the next 24 hours."

"I uh...kinda live alone, Doc," Tony told him.

"He can stay with me," Gibbs interjected, giving Tony no room to argue.

"Great," the doctor nodded. "Additionally I want you to stay out of the sun or really any hot weather for at least a few days. No heavy exercise, either. The key is to keep your body temperature from rising too high again, and after a heat stroke, you can be a lot more sensitive to it for up to a week."

"I'll keep him outta trouble," Gibbs assured the doctor.

*~.~*

"I can carry my go-bag, boss! Geez! Doc said no heavy exercise. I think I can manage carrying a bag," Tony argued as he followed Gibbs to the elevator. Gibbs remained silent, Tony's bag over his shoulder. "How'd you get my car back here, anyway?"

"Bishop drove McGee back to the crime scene to pick it up and bring it here," Gibbs told him.

"Well that was nice of them," Tony said as they boarded the elevator.

"They were worried about you."

And Tony tried to hide the smile the statement gave him.

When they reached their floor and headed out toward the bullpen, McGee was the first to see them coming. His eyes widened as he pushed to stand up. "Tony? You're...here?"

"Told ya he was okay, McGee," Gibbs said.

"Yeah but...he's..." he said and turned to look at Tony again, "You're at work? You're okay?"

"I'm fine, McWorry," Tony smiled at him. "They said I was an extraordinarily special case, and I could leave."

"As long as you've got a sitter," Gibbs added as he sat down at his desk.

"Still special," Tony said as he sat down at his own. "What's up with you?" he asked Tim who was still standing and looking at him as if he were a ghost.

Tim made a conscious effort to relax himself outwardly before sitting back down. "I just...I can't believe you're out of the hospital already after what happened, I guess."

"I count it as lucky," Tony said as he rummaged through one of the drawers in his desk. "I did my hospital-stay penance years ago, Timmy. I'd rather stay far away from that place, and this is the second day in a row I've been there." And right then and there, right after the words came out of his mouth, the color drained from his face, and Tim was looking at him when it happened. Tony suddenly turned to him with wide eyes. "Where is it?" he asked, his voice squeaking.

"Abby's keeping it safe," Tim said quickly, his panic level about the same as Tony's.

"Is that what happened? Is it what...did the thing?" Tony's panic only kicked up higher.

"I don't know!"

"There's no other explanation!"

"What the hell are you two talking about?" Gibbs stopped them.

"The voodoo doll," they said in unison as they turned to look at him.

"You kidding me?" Gibbs narrowed his eyes in disbelief. "I was with Bishop when she bought that thing," he told them. "It was a custom souvenir shop; not some kinda witch hut."

"Boss, when I went to get the doll from the car, it was like a hundred twenty degrees in there," McGee told him. "We were all outside this morning, and you know it wasn't hot enough out for that to have happened to Tony so fast," he tried to reason. "And yesterday with the stapler..."

"Has to be a coincidence," Gibbs said with a shake of his head.

"You don't believe in those," Tony told him.

"Well I sure as hell don't believe that what's been happening to you is because of that doll," he retorted sternly. He watched as Tim and Tony shared another worried glance. "Do you want that to be what it is?" he asked with a raised brow.

Tony's gaze shot back to Gibbs. "Of course not! But I can't ignore what's been going on, either!"

"Well then let's go get rid of it right now," Gibbs said, resigning to the fact that they seriously believed what they were saying.

"No!" they said in unison again, both standing when Gibbs did.

"What now?" Gibbs asked frustratedly.

"It has to be on a Saturday," Tony said a bit sheepishly.

"Oh come on," Gibbs sighed.

"If you don't do it right, it'll just end up hurting me," Tony told him. "Trust me. I'd have burned the stupid thing if I didn't think I'd spontaneously combust right along with it."

"It doesn't matter anyway," Tim added. "Abby's gonna keep it safe until then. Then we'll get rid of it the right way."

Gibbs sat back down and wiped a hand down his face. "Good thing you're on desk duty, then," he said.

Tony looked back down at the top of his desk in thought. He forced himself to take a few deep breaths and he considered what Gibbs had been saying. "Maybe you're right," he said after a while. Both McGee and Gibbs looked over at him then. "Maybe I'm just overreacting and jumping to conclusions. It's...it's gotta be a coincidence," he said, looking up from the desk then, over at Tim first. "It can't be the doll, right?" Tim wasn't sure how to reply. "It's gotta be a coincidence."

"Yeah," Tim said hesitantly. "Yeah, it must be. It's crazy to think that it could be the doll," he said with a small laugh.

"But we'll still get rid of it, just the same," Tony added. "Doesn't hurt to be safe, right?" he asked, looking at Gibbs for a moment, then back to Tim...

*~.~*

At 2030, Gibbs calls it a night and send his team home, Tony leaving with him. Abby is there for another half an hour before she shuts down the lab and gets ready to head out. She's almost to her car before she remembers she left the doll at her desk.

With a half-squeak, half-yelp, she hurried back to the elevator and back to her lab. She flipped the lights on as she entered the office, and opened the drawer she had dedicated for just the doll, a fluffy satin pillow to keep it comfortable. But when she opened the drawer, the doll was gone.

"Oh god... Oh no..."

*~.~*

Gibbs had changed out of his work clothes and into a worn tee and comfortable jeans since they'd gotten back to the house. Tony was heating up some leftovers from the fridge when Gibbs' phone rang.

As he grabbed it from the coffee table, he saw Abby's name on the ID.

"Hey, Abs," he answered.

"Gibbs, something horrible has happened!" she said on the other line, her voice laced with worry. "Someone took the doll!"

"What doll? Abby, calm down," he told her.

"I can't calm down, Gibbs! Someone came into my lab and into my office during the two minutes after I left, and they took Tony's voodoo doll! They must've had it all planned out, too. I had my eye on that thing all day, and the moment I stepped out-"

"Abby, just calm down, all right?" Gibbs told her quietly as he eyed Tony's movement in the kitchen. "There's nothing to worry about. I'm sure it'll turn up."

"You have to warn Tony!"

"No, I don't. And either do you," Gibbs instructed. "It's all in his head, and if you say something to him, he's gonna start imagining things. So just...keep it to yourself. Look for the damn thing if you have to."

"I called security, and they're looking into the logs, and I'm going through my own footage from the office as soon as I'm off the phone with you. I'll find who took it, Gibbs."

"Well all right. Great," Gibbs sighed, rolling his eyes slightly. "Don't stay there too late, Abs." He ended the call.

"Abby workin' late, boss?" Tony asked as he brought out two plates full of yesterday's Chinese take-out."

Before he could answer, his phone rang again. He sighed and shook his head before answering. "Abby, I told you-"

"This isn't Abby," a mechanically disguised voice sounded on the other line. An electric feeling of dread shot down his spine. "But you should listen to what I have to say."

"Who is this?" Gibbs asked, looking up at Tony who stood there with question in his eyes, still holding the plates.

"You and your agent, DiNozzo, have crossed my path some years ago," the voice said. "He was responsible for a death, and I've found the opportunity to make him suffer for that sin."

"And just how do you intend to do that," Gibbs asked.

"I saw you leave with him tonight. He's with you, isn't he?" Gibbs didn't reply. "I have something of his. Something very powerful. And to prove that to you, I'm going to...cause him some discomfort," the voice told him.

Gibbs narrowed his eyes and looked up a Tony just as the younger man's face began to twist in pain and confusion. The plates slipped from his hands, crashing to the floor, his arms clutched around his stomach. Gibbs watched in horror as blood dripped out of Tony's mouth, and then Tony collapsed onto the floor, losing consciousness.

"Stop!" he shouted into the phone. "Whatever you're doing, just stop! I believe you!"

"You have until 2359 Saturday night to find me, Agent Gibbs," the voice told him. "But it can't be you or DiNozzo. You're both benched for this one, since you did such a fantastic job with my brother's. For every eight hours that go by that you can't figure it out, I'll break something in your precious senior agent's body. If you leave the house or call an ambulance, I'll hurt him even more. Try not to make me kill him, Agent Gibbs. My intention is to make him suffer; make him hurt like I did when he killed my brother. But if you break the rules, I will not hesitate to punish him for it."

"And if we don't find you before Saturday night?" Gibbs questioned from where he was crouched beside Tony now.

"Then I'll be relocating," the voice replied. "And it'll be a lot harder for you to find me. Trust me, Agent Gibbs, these dolls don't have a range limit. I could use it from Tibet and it'd be as effective.

You better get you boy some rest. He's got a long day ahead of him."

The call ended before Gibbs could say another word...

TBC.


	4. Chapter 4

"Tony," he heard Gibbs' voice above him somewhere. Tony couldn't recall what happened. One minute he was standing there with dinner plates in his hands. The next, a blinding pain had shot through him like fire to his insides. "Tony, you with me?"

He opened his eyes. Somehow, he was on the floor. Gibbs was looking worriedly at him. "Boss...what happened?" he asked. He could taste blood in his mouth.

"You feel okay?" he asked.

"Yeah. Yeah, I do now," he replied, moving to sit up. Gibbs helped him up off of the floor and led him to the couch. He swiped a hand over his mouth, looking down at his hand once he did. "What the hell?"

"What do you remember?" Gibbs asked, sitting down on the coffee table in front of him.

"Uh...I remember you were on the phone, and I suddenly felt this weird stabbing pain in my stomach," Tony told him. "Like...nothing I've ever felt before in my life. It was pretty bad. I wasn't sure what to do or how to react to it. Guess I blacked out after that. What the hell is happening to me, Gibbs? There's gotta be something wrong with me. All this weird stuff...I mean, maybe I've got...Lupus or something. Maybe I should go see a specialist."

Gibbs wanted to laugh and scream at the same time. This was insane. It was absolutely out-of-this-world crazy. And he had no choice but to believe it. But he couldn't let Tony know what was going on. Not just yet. He'd tell him in the morning.

"We'll have Ducky come take a look at you in the morning," he told him as calmly as he could manage. "Think you just bit your tongue, as far as the blood goes."

Tony looked at him with surprise. "Really? You're not forcing me to the hospital?"

"They haven't done much to help you so far," Gibbs replied. Well, that and he was pretty sure they couldn't do anything for him in this case, not to mention the threat the mystery voice had given. "I want you to get some sleep. We'll figure this out tomorrow."

Tony looked at the floor. "Oh shit, I wrecked dinner!" Tony said, moving to try and pick it up.

"Don't worry about it, Tony," Gibbs stopped him. "I'm not hungry anymore, and I can take care of the mess. Not a big deal. You want me to fix you something to eat?"

"Actually...I'm not really too hungry anymore either," Tony admitted. "And I might argue with you on sending me to bed, but I am pretty exhausted for some reason."

Gibbs knew the reason. "Go on. You know where the guest room is. Your bag's in there. I'll see you in the morning, bright and early."

Tony nodded and stood. "Night, boss."

Gibbs waited for the guest room door to close before he started making calls...

*~.~*

"What've you found?" McGee asked as he hurried into Abby's lab. He'd just gotten out of the shower when Gibbs had called, telling him to get back to the office. Gibbs had explained the phone call he'd received, and wanted him to run a trace if possible. But it had been a burn phone, and had already been deactivated by the time Tim was able to start looking.

"I found the bastard on the security feed," Abby told him, "All over the building this evening." She pulled up the video as Tim came to stand beside her. "He's a janitor here. Alan Poller. Only, I know Alan, and even though the guy in all of the video footage is careful never to show his face on camera, I can tell that that is definitely not him," she said, pointing to the figure in the uniform. "But he checked in as Alan, which means he somehow got a hold of his creds. I've got a team heading to his apartment now."

"So whoever this guy is, not only did he know enough that most regulars on staff wouldn't notice him from Alan, he also was able to find out his shift and where he lived, and knew to stay long enough to wait for you to leave."

"Possibly," Abby told him. "We have to wait to hear back from the team. It's also possible this guy could've jumped Alan while he was working, and we just haven't found him yet."

"It would've been a lot harder for him to get into the Yard, but it's happened before."

She looked over at McGee with concern. "The scary thing is, whoever is doing this knew something about the doll. Which means he had to have been watching and waiting for an opportunity to hurt Tony. Why do all the crazy people end up with Tony's head on their to-do list, McGee?"

Tim's lips formed a hard line for a moment. "Probably the same reason he gets on the nerves of every director we've ever had," he replied. "Tony doesn't look or act like the kind of agent that can get the job done. But we know how good he is. It catches people by surprise. Unfortunately, that happens to piss people off, too..."

*~.~*

A dark-haired man sat down on the edge of the motel bed, humming the tune of 'Hello, Dolly' to himself. In his hands he held the doll, looking it over with a grim smile on his face. He picked up the remote for the television and clicked it on. There was a horror flick showing. Something about a surgeon who kept his patients paralyzed but aware as he operated.

The man smiled. "I said hello, Dolly. Well hello, Dolly. It's so nice to have you back where you belong..." he sang. Then he spoke, "Do have sweet dreams tonight, Agent DiNozzo," he whispered before setting the doll on top of the television set, before he turned to the desk on the other side of the room.

There, he had laptop opened up, its screen showing the exterior of Agent Gibbs' house. He smiled to himself as he shed out of the stolen janitor's uniform he still had on. He continued to hum the melody he'd been singing earlier, as he bagged up the stolen items and headed out of his room to throw them in the outside dumpster...

*~.~*

"Talk to me," Gibbs said as he checked in with his agents just two hours after Tony had gone to bed.

"Alan Poller, the night janitor, was found tied up and unconscious in his apartment," McGee told him on the other line. "He's okay. Chris's team is bringing him here from the hospital as we speak. Hopefully he got a good look at the guy."

"They check his place for prints?" Gibbs asked.

"They didn't find any other than Poller's," Tim replied.

"You let me know the moment you're done interviewing him," Gibbs stated, then ended the call. He swiped a hand down his face, letting out a breath of frustration. Gibbs hated that he couldn't be there helping out in some way. They had six hours to figure this out, or Tony was going to suffer some kind of torturous act.

In the meantime, Gibbs was going stir-crazy. For the first time in...really ever, he regretted not having an internet connection and a computer. On the other hand, he wasn't supposed to be helping out on the case. He wasn't sure how much he could get away with. Obviously the perp intended on allowing phone calls, or he wouldn't have been able to inform the rest of his team in the first place.

For lack of a better idea, Gibbs headed to the kitchen and grabbed his bourbon from the counter, and a glass from the cupboard, taking it into the living room with him. He sat down on the couch and poured himself a glass of the amber liquid, then sat back to take a long drink. It burned going down, but he was used to that; it didn't make him cringe. Instead, he craved the feeling. It helped him to focus on winding down.

Gibbs was never a man to sit on the sidelines. Now he was being forced to, and he wasn't sure how to accept that, but he knew he had to. He would have to trust in the rest of his team to be able to figure out who was behind this, and then find out where the hell he was...

Forty-eight minutes later, McGee's name was flashing on Gibbs' phone.

"Boss, we got a sketch of the guy that attacked Poller and took his shift. Get this, he's from New Orleans. He runs a souvenir shop there, and Bishop says he's the guy that sold her the doll."

"Name," Gibbs replied, eyes narrowing at the strange information.

"Abby's running his image through the database now," McGee replied. "I was gonna wait until something came up, but you wanted me to call as soon as the interview was done."

"You and Bishop cross-reference this guy with any and all cases DiNozzo and I ran back before you joined the team," he told him.

"Already on it, boss," he replied. "When you mentioned that he knew who you were, and singled the two of you out, I started pulling case files. We're weeding through them to find the ones where case-related casualties have living siblings."

"Be more specific, Tim. The casualty would've been someone Tony shot. He wouldn't have taken a kill shot unless he had no other choice. There aren't many."

"Boss...Abby's got a hit," he told him. Gibbs sat up. "Gerald Lee Boyd. Ring any bells?"

Gibbs thought the name over in his head, closing his eyes to block out any possible distraction as he thought. Boyd...Boyd...

2002

"Let her go, Boyd!" Gibbs yelled, gun aimed on the troubled, young Navy officer who held a woman in front of him like a shield, holding a knife to her throat.

"You don't understand!" he yelled back, distraught, tears streaming down his face. "You don't know what they did to me!"

"We know why you killed them," Gibbs said calmly, yet loud enough for him to hear. "But we can't help you if you kill that girl."

"You're not gonna help me!" he screamed wildly, the knife point pressing into the girl's neck. She whimpered in his hold. Gibbs eyes glanced to Tony where he stood just out of sight, off to Boyd's right. He gave Gibbs a nod, indicating that he had a clear shot. "You're just gonna lock me away, and then it'll start all over again!" Boyd yelled. "I'm not going there... I'm not going there, do you hear me!?" Then his face screwed up and his arm adjusted to slit the girl's throat.

Tony took the shot.

Now

"Ivan Boyd," Gibbs told him. "November 2002, Virginia Beach."

"Found it, boss. Two murder charges after unreported physical abuse from fellow officers while at sea..."

"He ran. Took a hostage. Tony had no choice but to take him out before he could kill her," Gibbs explained.

"Yeah. I don't understand why his brother would be after you and Tony now, though. The officers accused of abuse are dead."

"Two of them were, yeah," Gibbs stated. "But he never got to the third one. They discharged him, buried his name. He was off the grid for ten years. Died a couple years ago."

"None of that is in the report, boss," Tim said, question present in his voice.

"No, it's not. I kept tabs on him though. Never thought it was right that they let him go without serving any time."

"I still don't get why he'd come after you. It's a tragic case, but there was no choice."

"He doesn't see it that way. Doesn't matter. Now we need to find out where he is."

"What if he's gone back to New Orleans?"

"He hasn't. Not yet. He's close, I can feel it."

"Boss?"

"He found out where Tony was the moment Bishop showed him his photo to make that damn doll," he told him, really just thinking out loud. "He followed us back here. Could've been on the same flight. Probably holed up in a motel somewhere ever since."

"I'll get the flight manifesto," Tim replied. "I'll have Bishop check for any rooms booked for that long..."

"He'd have used an alias. Paid in cash. He wants us to find him, but he wants to play a while. It's not gonna be easy."

"We're gonna find him, boss," McGee said with conviction. "We won't stop until we do..."

*~.~*

At around 0400 hours, Tony came stumbling out of the guest room. Gibbs had almost nodded off on the couch, but Tony's unexpected presence sent his adrenaline running again. He sat up straighter and watched as Tony sleepily scratched his cheek.

"What're you still doin' up, boss?" Tony asked with a yawn.

"Couldn't sleep," Gibbs replied. It wasn't a lie.

"Yeah. I can't anymore, either," Tony said as he plopped down in the chair across from the couch. "Was having really weird dreams. Like I was watching horror movies in my head, which...normally isn't such a big deal, but it makes for some pretty stressful sleep." He met Gibbs' eye when the room grew quiet. "What's going on?" he asked.

"What do you mean?"

"You've got that look," Tony replied.

"What look?"

"Like you're running cases through your head," he said. "Like you're trying to figure something out."

Gibbs swiped a hand down his face. "You really should try and get some more sleep, Tony."

"Oh now I know something's going on," Tony said with a nod, narrowing his eyes. "You're worried about something. Is it me?" Then he let out a small laugh as Gibbs looked at him. "What, did my doctor call and say I was dying?" When no response came but a straight, serious face from his boss, the smile faded from Tony's face. "Gibbs?"

Gibbs let out a breath. "I wanted to wait to tell you," he said.

"Holy shit, am I dying?" Tony's eyes widened.

"No," Gibbs shook his head.

"Jesus, boss, why would you do that to me?"

"You're a target," he told him. Tony's mouth closed. "We're not allowed to leave this house. It's up to the rest of the team to find him. They've got..." he glanced down at his watch, "Three an' a half hours."

"Three and a half hours?" Tony asked, confused. "I don't understand."

"He called me around 11:30. He said for every eight hours that go by that we don't find him, he's gonna do something to you."

"Well that's insane," Tony shook his head, a slight smile playing on his lips. "How's he even gonna get to me?"

"That's...where it gets weird."

"Weird? It's not already weird?"

"He took the doll from Abby's office," Gibbs told him. He saw Tony flinch. "He's got it."

"But it isn't real," came out as mostly air. "You said it's not real." But his face had lost all color...

TBC...


	5. Chapter 5

Gibbs told Tony everything he knew about the case and everything Boyd was demanding of them. Tony had sat in silence through it all, his gaze not meeting anything in particular. He let him sit there and absorb the information; mull it over in his head. The silence in the room was suddenly deafening.

Then Tony reached out to the coffee table, grabbing Gibbs' glass and the bottle of bourbon before he poured himself some. Gibbs didn't stop him. He narrowed his eyes when Tony smiled down at his filling glass. "Why is it that everyone that hates me has to be so damned creative?" he asked no one in particular. He drank the half-glass of liquor like a shot, slamming it down on the table when it was empty. Gibbs never took his eyes off of him. "It's stuff like this that makes me question my line of work, Gibbs," he told him. "The 'damned if you don't, damned if you do' part. I save a life, and then I'm supposed to wonder if somewhere down the road I'll have my life threatened for the one I couldn't save."

"Tony..."

"Or hell," he said with a small laugh, "It doesn't even have to be that deep! Just a disgruntled, dissatisfied customer. Guess I'm just an easy target. Who would've thought I'd be the victim of a voodoo curse, huh, boss? But hey...points for originality."

"We're gonna find him," Gibbs assured.

"I know you will," Tony said, meeting his eyes. "I know that. I just...I can't help thinking about what's already happened with the doll. I mean...everything so far, when we were questioning the coincidences; thinking it couldn't be the doll because that's just ridiculous," he said with a laugh that didn't quite meet his eyes. "And that stuff...that all happened by accident," he continued. "That thing is...powerful. It's bad. And maybe it's just the lingering creeped out feeling from the nightmares, but I can't help but wonder what he's planning to do to me. Like...what if he starts doing things like...cutting off my limbs or something? Gutting me open like a fish..."

"He said he wouldn't kill you," Gibbs told him. "So I don't think he'd do something like that."

"Not until the end, you mean," Tony said, meeting his eyes again.

"We're gonna find him long before that."

"We're not even allowed to help," Tony countered.

"They can do this," Gibbs assured. "They're capable of tracking him down, Tony. You know that."

"I do...I'm just...mildly freaking out right now because I have no idea what's gonna happen if they don't. I don't know what I'm supposed to brace myself for, but I'm picturing some really messed up stuff."

"Whatever it is, I'll be here with you, Tony," Gibbs told him. "You're not gonna be alone."

Tony looked at him for a long moment before replying. "I appreciate that, boss," he said. "And I apologize ahead of time for any crying or wetting of my pants during this whole ordeal."

Gibbs surprisingly let out a small laugh. "Got plenty of towels."

*~.~*

0700

"Boyd didn't use an alias for the flight," McGee told Gibbs over the speaker phone where he stood beside Abby and Ellie. "That's a lot harder to pull off, and it was a last-minute trip. So we found him on the manifesto without a problem."

"But he never rented a car," Abby chimed in. "There's no record of him using a credit card after the flight, and you can't rent a car without a major credit card. So we figured he must've called a cab or just caught one out front. So I pulled up their security footage. There's too much interference to get the plate number on the cab Boyd took, but we were able to figure out the company."

"I called them to try and find out who had that cab that day," Bishop chimed in. "They're looking into it. They told us to expect a call back this morning. But in the meantime, we've faxed a BOLO to every hotel in a twenty mile radius. If he looks familiar to any of them, we'll get a call."

"What makes you think he's within a twenty mile radius?" Tony's voice sounded, as they were on speaker on their end as well.

"Factoring in the time of night and the average traffic for this area," Bishop stated, "And assuming he made the call from wherever he's staying, between the time the doll went missing to the time he made the call out to Gibbs, mathematically speaking, he should be somewhere in that general distance away from the Navy Yard."

"And even without those calculations," Abby interjected, "The ping McGee and I got off of the burn phone hit a tower that falls in that same perimeter."

"Yeah but what's to say he wasn't calling from the road?" Tony asked.

"He wasn't," Gibbs answered. "Heard a door shut, but not a car door. He was just getting to his room, I'm almost a hundred percent on that."

"That said," Abby went on, "Since we're basically just waiting now, I decided to dig a little deeper into Boyd's past. I wanted to know how he would know so much about actual real voodoo. Turns out his grandmother, Agnes Dupont, was a serious, hardcore follower of Marie Laveau."

"Who's Marie Laveau?" Gibbs asked.

"Long story short, she was a Louisiana practitioner of voodoo back in the 1800s. She was renowned in New Orleans."

"So Grandma Agnes was a voodoo witch doctor," Tony surmised.

"Far as I can see, she ran a type of clinic that her mother started back before she was even born. Agnes took over. Now it's a souvenir shop...taken over by Gerald Boyd after his grandmother passed on ten years ago," Abby explained.

"We got a hold of Agent Pride in the office down there," McGee told him. "They said the place is mostly for tourists now; nothing dangerous and nothing legit voodoo."

"But apparently Boyd had a pretty decent background in practicing it, since he was able to put it together like this," Abby said.

"I thought...voodoo dolls needed something from the person in order to have any power," Bishop chimed in. "Like hair or something. I definitely did not have anything of Tony's to give Boyd."

"There are some stories I've heard when I was little," Abby said, "That a voodoo doll can be activated once the intended recipient touches it. I always thought that was just a way for parents to keep us from touching the voodoo stuff in the shop," she said, then pursed her lips together.

"Yeah but is this stuff even real?" Tony asked incredulously. "I mean, obviously something is going on, here, but...I thought voodoo was a myth; like ghosts and...zombies..."

"It's actually more like a religion," Abby told him. "And we can't prove or disprove it any more than we could God. But it's not an evil thing. Or well...it's not supposed to be. But really nothing starts out that way, does it? Even Christians sometimes skew their religion to do evil..."

"There have been studies done," Bishop added. "I've read articles in the past few hours about a study done using a hundred people at a craps tournament. The participants all thought they were getting a good luck spell, but half of them got something called a general wellness spell; all cast by a genuine voodoo priest. The end result showed incredibly high winning streaks with those that received the luck spell. The others kept an average streak similar to any other player."

"So there's such a thing as luck?" Tony asked. "Could this day get any weirder?" There was a long pause of awkward, anxious silence that fell among them all. "Never mind. Knocking on wood now. I do not need this day to get weirder."

"Um...so..." Abby tried to segue the conversation. "I have a theory. It's a supernatural thing, right? So...maybe using the doll gives off some kind of energy signal or wave. In the case that we don't find him before he uses it, I had McGee rig my computer to be able to use cell towers to detect any strange signals that might show up in our search perimeter. Also, I was wondering if you would mind if we fill Ducky in when he gets here. You know...in case you need him to come by..."

After a long moment, Gibbs replied. "Yeah. Go ahead and do that. I don't know that it's against the rules. Only know we can't leave the house..."

*~.~*

0730

Gerald Boyd punched in the number to Gibbs' cell phone as he sat at the table in the small kitchenette. He waited patiently for the other line to pick up. When it did, there was no greeting.

"Tell your agents not to bother trying to trace the call," Boyd told him. "They must already have a general idea of where I am from the last one. This phone will be gone once we're through with this conversation, too."

"Boyd, tell me what I need to do to get you to reconsider what you plan to do," Gibbs pleaded on the other line.

Boyd grinned. "So I see your agents are useful after all," he said. "I take it you remember my brother, then."

"We do," Gibbs replied. "And we remember what a devastating situation it was. But my agent had no choice. Your brother was going to kill an innocent girl, and we couldn't stand there and let it happen."

"A situation that could've been avoided, if you had done your job in the first place, Agent Gibbs," he replied calmly.

"We didn't know what those officers had done to your brother until it was too late."

"This is not the time to discuss that."

"Don't hurt my agent, Boyd. He was only doing his job."

"And this is me doing mine," he replied. "My job was supposed to be to protect my brother. Now I protect his honor. This phone call was a courtesy, to let you know the it was coming. You'll hear from me in eight more hours, Agent Gibbs." With that, he ended the call and snapped it in two, before turning to pick up the doll. His face was void of emotion as he opened the freezer door and placed the doll inside. There was frost built up inside of the ancient appliance. Boyd tilted his head at the image. It was as if the doll were sitting inside of a cloud. He smiled to himself before closing the door, shutting Tony's doll in the cold darkness...

*~.~*

"I take it he wasn't keen on negotiating," Tony said with a small laugh, looking up at Gibbs with fear he thought he was hiding well. Gibbs just looked at him, searching for something in his eyes, though Tony didn't know that. He did know the answer to the question though. It made him fidget where he sat in the armchair across from the couch. "Is it cold in here?" he asked. "Kinda figured I'd be hot, being nervous and all. But I'm actually kinda freezing."

Gibbs thought that over for a moment. "It's not cold." Even though the sun had only been up for a little over an hour, the inside of the house was already heating up enough that the air conditioning would kick on. If Gibbs had air conditioning, of course.

"You may not be cold, but I am freezing. Wonder if I have a sweatshirt in my bag," he said as he stood to head toward his room. A handful of seconds later, Gibbs' gut started to churn. It was the same exact moment that he realized this could be the start of something Boyd was doing. He followed after Tony. "God... How are you not cold?" Tony asked, shivering as he crouched down to look through his go-bag.

"Because it's not cold, Tony," Gibbs stated calmly. He watched as Tony shrugged a gray NCIS sweatshirt over his head and wrapped his arms around himself.

"Well this is just weird, then..." he said, and then his eyes narrowed for a long moment as he turned around to face Gibbs. His expression slackened once it dawned on him, and his eyes moved up to meet Gibbs'. "Is this the thing?" he asked. "Is this the voodoo crap? He's making me cold?"

"I don't know," Gibbs replied, shaking his head at the idea.

"Well that's...kinda lame, don't you think?"

"You'd rather he be sticking you with pins or leaving you in a hot car?" Gibbs asked with a raised brow.

"Good point," Tony said with a shiver, not just from the cold. "Guess I shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth. Maybe he's starting me out light." He stood there for a moment, aware of Gibbs' eyes assessing him. "I dunno what I'm supposed to do," he said, and he was aware of the anxiety in his voice.

Gibbs kicked into protective-mode. "Come on," he gestured for him to follow. "You're cold, I'll start the fireplace going." Tony followed behind Gibbs like a puppy, unsure of what else to do. He was getting colder by the minute, like his insides were on ice. It was starting to get difficult to think about anything other than that fact.

Within five minutes Gibbs had a fire going and had gone to the kitchen to get Tony a mug of hot coffee. When he came back into the living room, Tony was sitting curled up in front of the fireplace, his arms holding a throw blanket tightly around him as he shivered. So Gibbs sat down beside him, intent on getting Tony to talk if for nothing more than to try and take his mind off of what was happening.

"Talk to me," Gibbs said as he handed him the mug.

"'bout what?" Tony asked, eying the mug.

"Anything," Gibbs shrugged, cautiously handing over the coffee as Tony's shaky hands reached for it. "Tell me about the latest movie you saw."

Tony let out a small laugh. "Never thought I'd hear those words coming from you," he said, shaking too much to hold onto the cup, and its contents began spilling over the side. "Shit..."

"I've got it. Let me," Gibbs told him, and held the cup to Tony's mouth, tipping it slightly so he could take a drink. It was short, and Tony choked a little on it before Gibbs took it away again and set it on the floor.

"Thanks, boss," Tony said, bundling up again. "Uh...so...movie," he blinked, clearing his throat and trying to concentrate. He let out another small laugh. "Actually, the other night Star Trek came on TV. One of the newer ones. Came out in 2009. You hear of it?"

"Think so," Gibbs nodded. "Takes place before the original series, right?"

"That's right, boss," Tony smiled as best he could. "They did a really great job, I think. Chris Pine...gotta say, they couldn't have picked a better kid to play young Kirk. He is dead-on perfect for the role. And Zachary Quinto did great as Spock. I wasn't too sure about the whole Spock/Uhura relationship, but I guess they get to mess with the universe a bit, and it wasn't too unbelievable, so I let it slide."

"I thought Spock was too logical and emotionless to have a love affair," Gibbs commented.

Tony looked over at him stiffly, amused. "You watched Star Trek?"

"Who didn't watch that when it was on?" he shrugged. "Didn't watch every episode or anything, but I saw enough."

"Well," Tony said as he looked back to the fireplace, "Vulcans aren't void of emotion. In f-fact, they feel it a thousand times stronger or something like that." He seemed to be getting colder by the minute. It was beginning to show in his voice now. "But they learn from childhood on h-how to control it, bury it really, and u-use sound l-logic for everything. So y-yes they do have emotions, but they don't let themselves experience it if they can help it. Spock is h-half human, though. It's a little different for him. It's what m-makes him so interesting, I think." Tony began to cough, then. Just a little at first, but then he seemed to have a bit of trouble catching his breath. It's when Gibbs realized there were droplets of what he thought was sweat on Tony's face.

Instinctively, he reached a hand up to feel the younger man's forehead, and he was surprised and shocked at how cold it felt. Not just clammy, but actually cold as if he'd been outside playing in snow in the middle of January. He pulled his hand away and looked at it, noting that the wetness on his fingers was like sweat at all, but more like water. Like...condensation. Tony's body was like a glass of iced tea sitting on a table; cold in a warm room, pulling vapor from the air around it.

"Maybe I should call Ducky," Gibbs said.

"W-what's he gonna do?" Tony asked. "Come over and s-s-snuggle?" he said with a grin.

"I don't know, Tony," Gibbs shook his head, frustrated. "But I don't know what to do, either. I don't know how much longer this'll go on for or what it'll do to you."

"It...it's n-not so bad," Tony told him, shaking as he looked over at him. "C-could be w-worse, right?" Gibbs could only nod, because he was right. It could be a lot worse. There could be pain and blood and god knows what else.

Tony forced himself to get up and start walking around not ten minutes later, hoping the movement would warm his body. That's how it should've worked, logically speaking. Gibbs had agreed and encouraged it. Right up until about forty minutes later when he couldn't talk anymore, and his muscles gave out. He collapsed onto the floor with a thump before Gibbs could catch him. And once Gibbs was at his side, Tony was shaking so bad it almost looked like a seizure. His skin was red where it was exposed, some white patches forming that Gibbs unfortunately knew exactly what they meant.

"C'mon," Gibbs said, dragging him up enough that he could bring him back to the fireplace. "I gotcha. It's gonna be okay," he said as he held onto him. He pulled out his phone to dial Ducky, desperate for some assistance; desperate to know if there was something he could do or if this was going to go on for much longer...

TBC...


	6. Chapter 6

Boyd glanced over at his laptop as a '54 Morgan pulled up in front of Gibbs' house. He stood and walked over to the desk to watch the older man get out of the car hurriedly, rushing toward the front door with a medical bag in his hands. Boyd grinned.

*~.~*

"It's gonna be okay," Gibbs said to Tony as he dabbed the warm, wet cloth over the younger man's frost-bitten face, a pan of heated water sitting on the coffee table behind them. Tony had a pillow under his head where he lay in front of the fireplace. He was bundled up in blankets, and the house was so damned hot that Gibbs was sweating in his Marine Corp tee. But nothing seemed to help Tony at all. He simply laid there, no longer able to speak or stop himself from shaking from the cold he was feeling. His skin was almost gray now, his breaths coming far to shallow and quick for Gibbs' liking. His eyes were starting to glaze over. "We're gonna stop him, Tony," Gibbs assured him, though he wasn't sure what else to do at this point. He'd have to trust the words of the man doing this; he wasn't going to kill him. Not yet anyway.

"Dear god, Jethro," Ducky said as he let himself in. "It's like a desert at high noon in here." Then he got into the living room. "Oh my..."

"Don't know how much more of this he can take, Ducky," Gibbs told him.

"How is this even possible?" the older man asked as he crouched down and felt the skin on Tony's face. "It's as if he's been in an icebox." As Ducky began to dig through his medical bag, Gibbs thought about the statement.

"Could be exactly what he did," he said, mostly to himself as he pulled out his phone and dialed.

"His heart rate is fast. How long has it been this way?"

"Noticed it maybe half an hour ago," Gibbs told him as he waited for the other line to pick up.

"And this whole time you've been trying to keep him warm, and it's done nothing to help. I'm not sure what I can do for him..."

"McGee," Gibbs said into his phone. "I think wherever Boyd is staying has a refrigerator."

"Uh...boss?" the agent questioned.

"He's got the doll in a freezer or something," he explained. "Could that narrow down the search?"

"Yeah, some... Boss, is Tony okay?"

"No he's not," Gibbs said sharply. "We need to find this guy and find him fast. I don't know how much longer he intends to keep this up..." his statement was cut off when the call-waiting tone sounded. He pulled the phone from his ear to look at the ID. "McGee, I think he's calling me now."

"We'll try and trace it, boss," he replied before Gibbs switched over to the other line.

"Boyd?" he answered.

"Agent Gibbs, are you attempting to get medical help for DiNozzo?" he asked in a condescending voice, no longer mechanically masked.

"You said no leaving the house; no ambulances. This isn't breaking the rules!"

"No matter," he replied with a sigh. "He can't do anything for him anyway."

"How much longer are you going to do this?" Gibbs asked, trying to remain calm. "You said you weren't going to kill him. I don't know how much more he can take."

"It's hard, isn't it?" Boyd sneered. "Watching someone you care about slowly die... Relax, Gibbs. I was calling to tell you that this part's over, and that you best make sure he recovers before phase two."

"How long do we have?"

"I told you already. Every eight hours. That means you have until 3:30, Gibbs. I hope your team is working hard."

"Oh they are," Gibbs replied. "And they will find you." The call ended before he could say any more. Gibbs turned back to where Tony was lying on the floor. "He said it's over," he told Ducky. "This part, anyway." He crouched back down on the floor and put a hand to Tony's cheek. "Hear that, DiNozzo?" he asked. "Gonna get warm, now."

"Good," Ducky replied for him. "Go and open some windows, Jethro. For god's sake, he'll recover from this and then suffer another heat stroke at the rate this house is going. Let's cool down the house a bit, run a warm bath so we can treat this frostbite..."

Gibbs hurried to open a few windows and start running a warm bath in the downstairs bathroom. When he got back to Tony, Ducky had been slowly unwrapping him from the blankets. His shaking had slowed a bit, and his breathing seemed to be more productive now, but he was still not completely coherent.

"Take him to the bathroom," Ducky instructed. "I'll start some water for tea. Once he comes around, we need to get some warm liquids into him."

Gibbs didn't question him. He stooped down and picked Tony up off of the floor as if he were a small child, lifting him with a grunt. As he made his way to the bathroom he had the fleeting thought that they should've taken off Tony's jeans, but his main concern right now was getting Tony to respond. Right now, he seemed out of it; like he wasn't aware of what was going on.

What Gibbs hadn't expected was the immediate shift when he laid the agent into the water. Tony's body seemed to tense up all at once, limbs flailing out for purchase as he sucked in much-needed air.

"Hey, hey!" Gibbs grabbed for his wrists before he could hurt himself. "You with me? The water too warm?"

"G-Gibbs? W-what...what's h-h..."

"Calm down, Tony, it's okay," Gibbs told him. "You're okay. But you gotta tell me if this water is too warm, all right?

"N...no it's...it's okay," he told him shakily. "W-w-why 'm I..." he started, but his voice cut off with a whimper.

"We gotta raise your body temperature," Gibbs explained. "Boyd put you on ice for a while, but it's done now. Just gotta warm you up."

"How is he doing?" Ducky asked as he entered the doorway.

"Good news is he's alert," Gibbs replied.

"Very good news indeed. We'll want to check his temperature before I give him anything to drink." He handed a thermometer to Gibbs. "When the water gets cool, let some of it drain and refill a bit warmer," he told him before heading back out.

Ducky couldn't wrap his head around the ordeal. The idea that this ailment was magically induced, eluded him. But he knew how to treat the symptoms, so he had to go that route. Understanding why wasn't the priority at the moment.

"90.7," Gibbs shouted. "That can't be right, can it?"

"Somehow, I get the feeling it was lower than that just minutes ago, Jethro," he called back as he poured the not-too-hot water into a mug with a tea bag. "This is all...very strange. I am, however, doing my best to accept it."

It took another couple of hours to get Tony's temperature back to normal. Exhausted, Tony had passed out on the couch, leaving Ducky and Gibbs to talk at the dining table.

"Boyd refuses to allow medical intervention from outside the house," Gibbs told him. "So you'll have to go. I only got away with it this time because the rules weren't laid out well enough. He won't allow it again."

"This man needs to be found immediately," Ducky stated in a low voice. "He's dangerous. And if he has this kind of...power, what's to stop him from doing it to more people once he's through with Anthony?"

"We're workin' on it, Duck. Wish I could be out there helping, but it's..."

"Against the rules, yes I know. But I do have faith in the remaining team, as I know you do as well. I'll at least leave you some injections; pain killers if they should become necessary," he told him. "I do hope you'll not have to use them."

"They've got less than four hours to find him," Gibbs said. "You'd be a great help to them. You should go back to the office, work up a profile if you can. Maybe it'll help in locating him." Gibbs' eyes narrowed for a moment, a thought suddenly occurring to him.

"What is it?" the doctor asked, knowing the expression well.

"Boyd knew you were here," he stated.

"Yes, we determined that."

"He didn't say anything about it until after you got here... He can see the house," Gibbs surmised as he pushed to stand and walk over to the front door.

"Are you certain that's all he can see?" Ducky asked as he stood to walk over to him.

"He wouldn't have risked coming inside," Gibbs said. "He didn't know I'd bring Tony here. If he set up surveillance here, it was last minute." He cautiously peeked out one of the windows beside the door and looked around.

"If you do find it, what good will it do to know it's there?" Ducky asked. "You can't disable it. Boyd strikes me as a man who would punish Tony for such an act."

"Won't disable it," Gibbs said as he spotted something on the utility pole across the street. "But Abby might be able to track where the feed is relaying..."

*~.~*

"I found it," Abby told Gibbs over the phone. "But it's not running at the moment. It's online but not feeding. McGee and I could hack into it, but that might send up a red flag for Boyd."

"But what we can do is wait for him to access it again," Tim chimed in. "Then we should be able to track it back to his IP and find out where he's accessing the internet from."

"Boyd might know a thing or two about voodoo, but there's nothing in this guy's file that says he ever did much with a computer. I doubt he can mask his IP," Abby stated. "If he accesses the camera, we'll have him, Gibbs."

"And if he doesn't access it until the next wave?" Gibbs asked.

"It's our best bet," Abby replied. "We haven't had any luck with the BOLO. Boyd may have checked in in disguise and he's not leaving his room anytime soon."

"Bishop is upstairs trying to make sense of this guy," McGee told him. "She thinks it might help us figure out where he's staying."

"What do you think, McGee?" Gibbs asked.

"I...I think that if Ducky can come back here, he can take over what Ellie's doing, and Abby can keep watch for the feed to be accessed. Bishop and I can go to the motel district the cell towers hit, and wait for word from Abby. Once she's got a trace, we'll be close enough to grab him before he can do much."

"Take Dorneget with you," Gibbs insisted. "He can cover one side of the perimeter."

"I was considering that, boss," Tim said. "There are no weapons registered in Boyd's name. No way he'd have taken a gun through airport security, and I doubt he got a hold of anything since he's been in town."

"And Poller said Boyd didn't have a weapon when he was attacked; just got a jump on him. Alan owns a shotgun and a handgun, and Boyd didn't take either. Just the uniform and credentials."

"So it's probably safe to believe he won't be armed when we find him."

"He won't hurt any of you," Gibbs told him. "He just wants to hurt DiNozzo. And it'll be hard to prove he did anything to him once you do get to him."

"But we can arrest him for assault, theft, and illegal entry into NCIS in the meantime," Tim said.

"You just make sure you get that doll. As long as he has that, Tony's life is in danger..."

TBC...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: OH HEY! By the way, we're running a raffle to win a Skype call with actor Chad Lindberg! He was Joey Peanuts in the NCIS episode 'Baltimore'. If you want the info on how to enter, contact me or visit our website, fandom-con dot com and click the raffles/stories4charity tab. :)
> 
> PS. You can find me on Facebook and Twitter (and Tumblr though I don't post a whole lot there lol)


	7. Chapter 7

"What're you doing up?" Gibbs asked with raised brows as Tony entered the kitchen, a blanket wrapped around him. His color was almost back to normal, though his eyes were a bit bloodshot.

"I'm okay, Gibbs," he said, voice sore. "Kinda hungry. Thought I'd come out here. Was feeling kind of...alone," he said, ending it with a self-depreciating smile.

Gibbs' expression softened. "Sit. I'll fix you something to eat." He pulled a small pot from the cupboard and placed in on the stove before grabbing a can and opener.

"'s that Campbell's vegetable soup?" Tony asked.

"Best kind," Gibbs replied with a smirk.

"I like the one with the alphabet pasta best," Tony said with a small smile.

"Guess you'll get the second best then," Gibbs said as he opened the can. "You finish your water?"

"Yeah," he replied as Gibbs started the soup going in the pan. Once the stove was on, Gibbs headed toward the guest room. "What, you don't believe me?" Tony questioned.

"Going to get the thermometer," Gibbs told him with a raised brow. "Gotta check your temperature before you start eating the soup."

"Oh..."

Tony looked down at the table's surface in front of him. He couldn't help but to feel a bit useless. He wasn't used to someone looking after him. He'd always managed on his own in one way or another. Sure he depended on his team to have his six in the field. But personal stuff? Well he'd always dealt with that by himself. Even as a kid.

"Open up," Gibbs' voice sounded beside him and Tony looked over to see the thermometer held in front of his face. He felt silly, but opened his mouth anyway. "I know it'll be hard, but...don't talk," Gibbs said as Tony's mouth closed over the thermometer, then he smiled when Tony glared at him.

Tony watched as Gibbs went back to the stove and stirred the soup. He didn't miss it when the older man yawned.

The thermometer beeped a few moments later and Gibbs turned to retrieve it. "97.4. A lot better," he said.

"Have you slept, boss?" Tony asked, now that he was allowed to speak. Gibbs laughed. Actually laughed. "You shoulda slept while I was out," Tony told him. "I'm sorry you're stuck in this with me..."

"Hey," Gibbs looked over at him with narrowed eyes. "Don't start that."

"Well it's me he's after. You shouldn't have to deal with this."

"None of this should be happening," Gibbs countered. "You didn't do anything wrong. Boyd is out of his mind. He's..."

"Still grieving the death of his brother," Tony filled in. "After all these years, he still hurts so much that he jumped at the chance to lash out with it."

"It doesn't justify what he's doing, Tony."

"It's the only way he knows how," he replied with raised, accepting brows, a slight smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

Gibbs looked at him with narrowed eyes, silent for a long moment. "Are you condoning this?" he asked incredulously.

Tony laughed. "No. No, I...I just...understand it." Gibbs looked at him silently for another minute before turning back to the counter and pulling a bowl from the cupboard. "Ya know," Tony said, "I still think about that case now and then. I sometimes have nightmares about it even."

Gibbs brought the bowl to the table and set it down in front of Tony, before taking a seat at the table as well. "You never told me that," he said.

"Yeah, well," Tony said with a short, breathy laugh, "There's plenty of nightmares I don't talk about." Gibbs watched him as he pushed his spoon around the steaming bowl of soup. "But yeah...Boyd was...a difficult case to deal with. It was hard, having to kill him."

"And you had no choice. He was about to kill an innocent person."

"Hell, I know that, Gibbs," Tony said as he shook his head. "But it's not about what happened in the end. It's about...failing."

"Failing? To do what?"

"To help him in the first place," Tony replied.

"We didn't know until it was too late."

"He must've told someone something," Tony thought out loud. "Kid was brutalized...and terrified. He saw no way out of it without killing the ones that hurt him. Means someone didn't do their job in the first place."

"You know he didn't tell anyone, Tony. He was embarrassed and ashamed. It's why he took matters into his own hands. The way things ended...that's not on anybody but him."

Tony seemed to mull that over for a moment. "Maybe..." Gibbs watched as Tony finally ate a spoonful of the soup. They sat in companionable silence for a while, Tony eating while Gibbs drank his coffee. Tony was almost finished with his meal before he began speaking again.

"I guess maybe I think too much about this kinda stuff for my own good," he said, a slight smile playing on his face. Gibbs simply raised his brows. "I think about it like it was me in his brother's shoes. Regardless of the reasoning behind it, ya know? Someone killed my brother. I wanna make him suffer for causing me to hurt this much. I don't have a brother, but ya know...I've got friends I'd call siblings. And if someone hurt them...

"Like...like Kate," he said, flinching at the name. "If I could've made Ari suffer before he died...I think I might have taken the chance."

"That's different," Gibbs said.

"How?" Tony asked, finally looking up at him. "He was just doing his job, right? He was following orders."

"He enjoyed it," Gibbs replied. "And that is nothing like what happened with you and Ivan Boyd."

"You think Gerald sees it that way?" he asked with a raised brow.

Gibbs was silent for a long moment, his eyes only leaving Tony's so that he could think. "Doesn't make him right," he said. "And it doesn't justify what he's making you go through. You do not deserve what he's doing to you, Tony. We're gonna find him, and we're gonna put an end to this..."

*~.~*

Gerald Boyd was standing at the sink in his hotel room, filling it with water as he intended on soaking the dishes he had used that day, when his watch started beeping. He turned off the tap and grabbed a towel to dry his hands before stopping the alarm. It was time to make preparations for round two.

He walked to the bed and pulled the shoebox from the end table. Inside was the doll, a pack of sewing needles, tweezers, and a lighter. He smiled for a moment, but it faded. Boyd wasn't happy about the fact that he couldn't watch DiNozzo suffer. He had taken the time to get into Tony's apartment over a week ago, setting up plenty of cameras for his viewing enjoyment. He hadn't anticipated the change in location, so he had to settle for the knowledge of his pain and watching what he could from the camera outside of Gibbs' home.

Five minutes to go...

*~.~*

"Boss, Abby picked up the signal and she's tracing the IP now," Tim told Gibbs. "We're standing by now, waiting for an address."

"Better make it fast," Gibbs replied sternly, and that's when McGee heard the scream. "Tony!" He heard the phone drop, heard Tony's struggle through whatever unknown pain was being inflicted on him in that moment. Tim froze, the sound of Tony in such pain causing his chest to burn.

"We've got a trace," Bishop said. She turned to Tim when he didn't respond. "McGee!" He shook himself and looked to her. "Abby sent me an address. We need to move, now!"

*~.~*

"Aaaagghhh!" Tony gripped onto his right arm as he curled in on himself. Gibbs did his best to keep him from toppling off of the couch.

"What's happening?" Gibbs asked. "Tony, talk to me!"

"My arm!" Tony grunted, trying to hold in any further embarrassing reactions. "Something...god!" he shoved his sleeve up on his arm to reveal a harsh red line blistering almost the entire length of his forearm. "Burning...he's burning me!" Tony said, his jaw clenched tight as his breathing picked up. Sweat started to bead on his face.

Gibbs wasn't sure what to do. Under normal circumstances he'd be getting ice from the freezer. But this wasn't normal, and normal remedies for relief weren't going to help. He picked up his discarded phone. "McGee, tell me you've got something!"

"Boss, we have an address! We're about to pull into the hotel now..."

Gibbs put the phone down again and turned to Tony. "It's almost over," he assured him. "They know where he is. It'll be over soon."

Tony nodded, trying to keep himself together and tough through it. Then there was sudden new pain across his stomach. He was determined to hold it together; not yell out from it. But it kept getting unbearably worse.

Gibbs watched Tony arch up off of the couch before he released a pained scream and began tearing at his shirt. Gibbs tried to grab for him, keep him from falling head-first into the coffee table. "Hey! Hey, stay with me!" Gibbs yelled, unsure of how it was helping exactly, but determined to do something.

Tony succeeded at pulling his shirt away from the pained area, and revealed a similar burn that only seemed to get worse as the seconds went by.

Tony was shaking now with the effort to contain himself. He felt like he was disconnecting from reality for a moment; like he was disconnecting from himself. And then he felt Gibbs' hand grip one of his own, and he realized the other man was speaking to him. He couldn't figure out what he was saying, but he could hear him.

The pain reignited, a new line forming just under the last. He didn't bother holding in the scream this time. "M-make it stop! G-Gibbs...make...make it s-stop!" he said through gritted teeth.

*~.~*

Boyd lifted the needle from the doll with the tweezers and grabbed for the lighter again.

Suddenly the door was being kicked in, an unfamiliar face bursting in with his gun out. "NCIS!" the man yelled. "Drop it!"

Dorneget wasn't a hundred percent clued in on what Boyd was doing. He just knew that he was dangerous and a threat to DiNozzo. So when Boyd stood, dropping whatever metal object he'd been holding, and picked up a doll instead, Dorneget wasn't sure what to think.

"Who are you?" Boyd asked as he backed away, hands raised, though one clutched the doll.

"I told you. NCIS. Now...freeze! You're under arrest!"

"Okay. All right," he replied calmly. "Just...need to do one more thing."

"Stop!"

"It's okay," Boyd insisted as he dropped the doll into the sink full of water. "It's all right. I'm done. You can take me away now," he said as he held his hands out in surrender...

*~.~*

It was strange and sudden, Tony's torture ending. He was still in pain, but the worst was over. He was starting to breathe again, and Gibbs had noticed the difference immediately. Assuming they'd gotten to Boyd, Gibbs stood and headed to the kitchen.

"Gonna get you some ice and then I'm takin' you to Bethesda," he told him.

"And t-tell them what?" Tony asked with a weak laugh. "I got...hit with a voodoo curse? Sure they won't...stick me in the psych ward?"

"We tell them you were attacked by Boyd and we don't know what he used to hurt you with."

"And they'll buy that?"

"Don't care what they buy, s'long as they treat you," Gibbs said as he walked back in with a bag of frozen peas. "Come on," he said as he held out a hand to help Tony up. "Let's get you outta here."

Tony pushed up with one hand while holding onto Gibbs' for leverage. "Can't we just...get Ducky to treat the burns?"

"You forget you're also recovering from hypothermia?" Gibbs asked with a raised brow. But when he turned to look at him, Tony's eyes were widened with panic. "Hey...what it is?" Tony shook his head, and his hand shot to his chest. His mouth opened, and he looked as though he was trying to take a breath, but it never came. That's when Tony went into a full-blown panic.

Gibbs watched helplessly as his agent scattered back against the wall, struggling to remove whatever invisible object was stopping his ability to get air. Gibbs scrambled for his phone. He needed to ask McGee what the hell was going on.

But before he could even dial, Tony was coughing, water pouring from his mouth like a faucet...

TBC...


	8. Chapter 8

"I've got him, McGee!" Tim heard Ned call as he and Bishop approached the room.

Tim's heart immediately felt relief from the statement. He entered before Bishop and looked around the room before meeting Boyd's eyes. "Cuff him," he told Ned. Ned nodded and put his weapon away as Tim held his aim on Boyd. "What was he doing when you got here?" he asked the agent.

"I don't know," Ned shook his head as he spoke. "He had something in his hand but he dropped it."

McGee's phone rang in his pocket, and he fetched it out quickly, knowing who it was. "Boss, we've got him," he told him with some relief. "What?" Tim's heart sped up again, the relief he'd felt just moments ago suddenly replaced with worry ten times worse...

*~.~*

"Where is it?!" Gibbs heard McGee yell with a fury he'd never heard from the younger man before. But he was too busy to address that just now. Tony was still frantically struggling to breath, water still horrifically falling from his mouth. The look of pure terror in Tony's eyes lasted only a few seconds longer before they rolled back, the fight leaving his body as the water overpowered his lungs.

"No no no...Tony!" Gibbs dropped his phone again, pulling his agent forward and hitting his back over and over, trying to expel the water.

*~.~*

Boyd laughed cockily at Tim, even with the gun pressed to his forehead. "What're you gonna do, huh? Shoot me? I'm unarmed."

"What are you looking for, McGee?" Ned asked, nervous and surprised by the current state of his friend.

"The doll. Tell me where it is now!" Tim yelled at Boyd.

"The doll?" Ned questioned, cocking his head. "He dropped it in the sink when I came in..."

Tim spotted the sink full of water in the kitchen area and started toward it with wide eyes. Boyd was laughing again.

"You're too late."

Tim refused to believe that. He pulled the doll from the sink, carefully shaking the water from it as much as he could. "Get him out of here," he said, then turned to face his team members when they looked at him questioningly. "Get Boyd out of here! I'll process the scene."

Bishop at least had the decency to look guilty before she turned and walked out with Ned.

"I still don't know what's going on," Dorneget said as he led Boyd out.

"Boss?" Tim put the phone to his ear again, but it was clear that Gibbs wasn't holding it anymore.

"Come on, Tony. Come on!"

*~.~*

Gibbs had Tony on his back on the floor as he did chest compressions, trying to get Tony to come back. The younger man's eyes were still cracked slightly open, but his lips were a shade of blue that made Gibbs' heart stick in his throat.

It felt like hours that he did the compressions, but after just a couple of minutes, Tony's eyes squeezed shut, head lolling before he began to cough. "That's it," Gibbs said on a breath of relief, helping to pull him to sit up. "That's good. You're doin' good, Tony," he told him. "Come on. Breathe," he tried to instruct as calmly as possible, especially with Tony's obvious panic. Tony clung to Gibbs as if he was the only thing keeping him above water, which ironically enough fit in a way.

Gibbs held onto him, rubbing a hand strongly up and down the younger man's back to encourage him.

"G-Gibbs..." Tony croaked out, then coughed again.

"I gotcha, Tony," he told him.

"I don't...I don't wanna...do this anymore," he said, his hand clenching around the front of Gibbs' shirt as he struggled to catch his breath.

"It's over," Gibbs replied, his other hand going to the back of Tony's neck to give him some comfort. "It's all over..."

*~.~*

"Would somebody mind telling me what the hell is going on?" Director Vance asked as he entered the observation room. Ducky was the only one there, Boyd on the other side of the glass in the interrogation room. "Where is everyone?"

"McGee sent Agent Bishop and Dorneget back to the crime scene," Ducky told him as he turned around to look at the man.

"What crime scene?" he asked. "I wasn't made aware of a case outside of the janitor who was attacked."

"This is related," Ducky told him. "The man sitting in that room is the one who attacked Mr. Poller. He came in and gave us a positive ID, though we didn't necessarily need one."

"What's that mean? And you haven't answered my question fully about where everyone is. What about Gibbs, DiNozzo and McGee?"

"They're at Bethesda," Ducky replied, "Where I would be as well, but they thought it would be best if there was someone to stay here and explain things."

"What's going on at Bethesda?" Vance asked, eyes narrowed.

"As you know, this man, Gerald Boyd, unlawfully entered our building and stole something from Miss Scuito's office."

"I was made aware of that, yes."

"Unfortunately, that was a means to get to Tony. At approximately 11:30 last night, he took Gibbs and Tony captive..."

"What? Why wasn't I made-"

"We were instructed not to," Ducky interjected. "He threatened to kill Tony if anyone other than the remaining team began to investigate. He gave very specific demands."

"And they were?"

"To find him. We were given 48 hours. We found him in less than half of that. He attempted to take Tony's life anyway, but through the joint effort of Gibbs and McGee, Tony is alive."

"Was anyone else hurt?" Vance asked after a long moment of absorbing the information.

"I don't believe so," he replied. "And I'm unaware of the full extent of Tony's injuries, but I do know that Boyd was particularly cruel in administering them. He has severe burns on his arm and torso, and is recovering now from hypothermia and...if I heard correctly...drowning."

"Good god..."

"From what Gibbs told me, Tony's heart had stopped beating for close to a minute. Boyd should be charged, in addition to the incident with the janitor, with kidnapping, assault, and attempted murder of a federal officer."

Vance shook his head as if to clear it. "Boyd went specifically for DiNozzo. Do we know why?"

"Yes. A case over a decade old. This man is delusional, mentally unstable and obviously a danger to society. I would suggest sending him to a prison somewhere far far away, but...Tony believes he should be a psychological facility for treatment."

Vance raised a brow at that. "Why would he say that?"

"His attack on Tony was instigated by the loss of Boyd's brother. He believes Gerald is simply grieving and didn't know any other way."

"You said this case was over a decade old..."

"Yes. It would seem that he had bottled up his grief, and saw an opportunity to exact revenge, which sent him into this...psychotic episode."

"But you don't believe he should be in a facility," Vance surmised.

"I believe he does need help. However, this man has lived a normal, seemingly healthy life all these years. To think he has a mental illness that would make him eligible for skipping out on a prison sentence in favor of psychological treatment would be unwise. If he hadn't been so well organized with this whole thing, I'd have called it a crime of passion. But this was very well planned out. He had every intention of torturing and killing Tony, and I do believe he might've done the same to Gibbs in the end as well."

"Because he was a witness?"

"No. Boyd dragged us all into this. We all knew who he was. He'd have had to kill us all."

"Then what's your reason for believing it?"

"During our attempt to figure out who this man was, we discovered surveillance equipment in Tony's apartment. And more recently...we also discovered a camera right outside of Gibbs' house." Vance's eye twitched at that. "In the end, a transmission from that camera to Boyd's computer is what led the team to Tony's rescue."

"You said Bishop and Dorneget are processing the scene."

"A motel room downtown," Ducky supplied. "Though they believe he may have had Tony in another location at first. The object in which he used to inflict the burns has yet to be discovered. Unfortunately, Tony doesn't remember anything before arriving in that room." It was a lie, but a necessary one.

"How in the hell would Boyd have managed to drown him in a motel room?"

"There was a sink filled with water," Ducky supplied.

"Christ..." He looked past Ducky to the man in the other room. "He looks so calm; like he thinks we've got nothing on him."

"Another part of the delusion, I'm afraid," Ducky said as he turned to face the glass again. "He believes he did all of this magically," he said with a laugh. "With a...voodoo doll, at that."

"You've gotta be kiddin' me," Vance said with a shake of his head...

*~.~*

When Tim entered the quiet hospital room, he saw Gibbs first. Their team leader was asleep in the chair by the window. So he was sure to keep quiet as he entered further. Tony was asleep as well, but what Tim saw made his stomach clench. He was covered from the waist down in a white blanket, but the rest of him was exposed. Tony had circles under his eyes, and a oxygen was being fed to him through a nasal cannula. The dark burn marks on his arm and stomach glistened with whatever ointment they must have put on them. Tim remembered the screams...

"He's gonna be fine," Gibbs' whisper startled him, and he looked over to see the older man now awake. "Just tired. They put him through a lot of testing."

"Ducky's gonna tell Vance the story we settled on," McGee told him quietly. "Everyone's agreed on it. Even Ned. Ellie explained it to him." Gibbs nodded silently. "I uh...I need..."

"Photographs, I know," Gibbs replied.

"I don't wanna wake him up."

"Don't think you will," Gibbs told him.

He was right. Tim started photographing the injuries one by one, remembering Tony's screams with each flash; picturing the other things that happened. Something must've shown in his face, because Gibbs was suddenly right there next to him, taking the camera from him and putting a hand on his shoulder.

"You haven't slept either," Gibbs said. "You should go home. I can have Ducky pick this up."

"There was a list," Tim said. Gibbs wasn't sure what he meant at first. "I found it with Boyd's things. A list of all the stuff he'd planned on doing to Tony."

"Tim..."

"There were spells to use on the doll that would shut down his liver, stop his heart, make him blind... Boss, if we hadn't found him when we did..."

"But you did," Gibbs told him. Tim swiped a hand down his face and sighed. "Where's the doll?" Gibbs asked, eyes narrowed.

"I brought it to Abby for safe keeping," he told him. "Which sounds stupid now that I think about it..."

"It should've been safe with her to begin with. No one anticipated what happened."

"Yeah... I uh...Anyway, we have to get rid of it properly, and it has to be tomorrow. How long does Tony have to be here?"

"Soon as those test results get back, he's free to leave, assuming there's nothing he needs to stay and be treated for that we don't already know about..."

*~.~*

Saturday. Dawn.

Abby, McGee, Tony, Gibbs and Bishop stood at the water's edge. It was a creek just outside of Georgetown, glistening orange with the sunrise, rushing quickly over brown stones.

The doll was wrapped in a white cloth, and Abby stooped down to let it go in the running water.

McGee never took his eyes off of Tony. He watched and waited for a sign that this was the wrong way to do it; the moment he might need to jump in after it to stop another incident of drowning. But instead of panic, Tony seemed to slump in relief, like something heavy had just been lifted from his shoulders.

"Everything okay?" Gibbs asked Tony.

The younger man gripped his biceps of the arm that was burned as he looked over at him. "Yeah. I guess so."

"Good," he said with a nod. "Let's get you home. Looks like you could use some pain killers."

"Wait," Bishop said as she stepped toward Tony. "I... Can I...talk to you for a minute?"

"Uhhh yeah sure," Tony replied, his brows furrowing for a moment.

"I um...I wanted to say I'm sorry," she told him. Her eyes darted back and forth in the air between them. "If I hadn't gone into that shop..."

"This isn't your fault, Bish," he told her.

"I know," she said with a shake of her head. "I know it's not. But it kind of is, too," she said as she met his eyes. "It wouldn't have happened if I hadn't gotten you that thing." Tony looked at her for a moment, noticing that the others were heading back toward their cars. "I guess I...I mean I know I can't change the past. But I wanted you to know that I'm sorry. And I owe you."

"You're forgiven," Tony said without hesitation. "And you don't owe me anything. Except maybe a tee shirt," he said with a small laugh. Ellie smiled. "But seriously, covering for this case...it's all I ask."

"Definitely," she said with a nod. "We're all in this together. There's enough evidence to prove what we've said. Abby made sure of that." She glanced down at Tony's arm and realized that his grip on it was growing stronger. "Oh god...Okay you need to get home and take something for that."

"Yeah I skipped the meds this morning," he confessed as they headed toward the car. "For some reason I thought maybe this all would magically go away once we released the doll..."

Tony got into the car with Gibbs and McGee, the girls having ridden together in Abby's. Tim was in the back, and once Tony was inside he leaned forward. "We got all of the surveillance cameras out of your apartment," he told him. "And I restocked your go-bag. I wasn't sure if you were staying at Gibbs' place again or not."

"Staying with Gibbs until I'm off the meds," Tony told him. "I've come to the conclusion that I need supervision when I'm on pain killers."

"They do make you a bit loopy," Tim said as he leaned back in his seat.

"Not just that," Tony said. "Last time I needed these things, I ended up in some kinda book-of-the-month club I apparently signed up for online in the middle of the night. "Couldn't get out of it for six months."

"Oh yeah. I remember that," Tim said with a slight smile.

"Not just that, either. I ended up miss-dialing a number. Talked to some lady named Tessa in Oklahoma for forty-five minutes. Luckily it was only 10pm there."

"She talked to you for forty-five minutes?" McGee asked, surprised.

"Oh yeah," Tony replied with a grin. "74 years old. Six grandchildren. She had plenty to talk about."

Gibbs silently laughed as he drove them back toward the house...

~End~


End file.
